


misery

by rmaowl



Series: january [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adrenaline, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Clones, Dads of Marmora (Voltron), Families of Choice, Gen, I'm Sorry, Keith & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Loneliness, Misery, Missions, Poor Life Choices, Post-Mission, Self-Destruction, Silence, Sobbing, Suffering, Suffering Keith (Voltron), Tablets, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, evil kuron, kolivan loves his idiot son he’s trying his best to care for him okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmaowl/pseuds/rmaowl
Summary: His room aboard the Castle of Lions and his room encased in the Blade of Marmora base are exactly the same: the beds are stiff, they're devoid of any possessions, he could leave either of them in a heartbeat.





	misery

The Blade of Marmora is analytical and cold and lonely. Nobody talks, perhaps in fear of forming a bond: they have to leave their teammates behind so often, too often.

Keith can never bear it.

He's risked his life for others before, and he doesn't want to stop doing so if it means they make it out alive, ready for just one more mission (ready to return to the family he's sure they must have, somewhere out there, even if it isn't their family by blood).

Kolivan grows increasingly frustrated with him, threatening his standing within the Blade, criticizing his softheartedness. Keith can't help it. He's willing to be left behind if worst comes to worst, which he argues to Kolivan is what matters most. The others around him, though? Never.

Kolivan gets a strange look on his face whenever Keith brings up that particular point. He always gets kicked out of the room immediately afterwards, leaving Kolivan with his head in his hands, thoughts whispering faintly _so he is Krolia's son._

Keith is defiant and rebellious, yes, but first and foremost he is terrified. If Kolivan makes good on his threats, if Keith is further shunned in the midst of the Blade, he'll have nothing. He's already left Voltron, and he doubts he'll be taken back: he isn't needed there. He can do more with the Blade, he can do more where he is expendable, adrenaline coursing through his veins, heart pounding unhealthily fast.

After any mission, every mission, he crashes hard. He's lightheaded. He’s miserable.

Nobody talks about that part.

Maybe they don't experience it anymore, maybe they're used to it.

Still, no one talks.

There is only silence.

Until he's issued a tablet, that is. He assumes that Kolivan had it delivered to him, though the exact reason why he's done so remains foggy. Keith's clawlike nails click against its surface. One of its only contacts lists _Voltron._

Selfishly, stupidly, he calls.

Familiar blue eyes gleam back at him.

"Heya, Mullet."

Keith snorts. The tension eases from his shoulders.

"Lance," he regards, biting back a soft smile.

So it goes.

The number of calls sent out from the one measly tablet increases drastically after that day. Sometimes it isn't Lance that's there. Allura, despite her tired eyes, will ramble on about her day, accompanied by magical space mice curled snugly upon her shoulders. Hunk despairs at the lack of warm food served at the Blade, commenting sadly on how much thinner Keith looks, but he lets the topic go when asked to do so, talking instead about the projects he's working on. Pidge yells about various video games, shows off her painted nails, talks about her newfound idiot brother (who is sometimes there, calling Keith "Bambi" like he did in their Garrison days, causing stupid nostalgic pangs in Keith's chest).

Shiro's never there.

Still, Keith can almost physically feel himself growing softer, enveloped in the presence of the people he's denied himself.

This is unacceptable.

He knows that, inevitably, he'll be left behind on a mission. He's still crashing and burning alone at the end of the day, twitching and trembling. Intrinsically, nothing has changed. His room aboard the Castle of Lions and his room encased in the Blade of Marmora base are exactly the same: the beds are stiff, they're devoid of any possessions, he could leave either of them in a heartbeat. He longs to pull away from them again, because he's self-destructive. He always has been. He stole Shiro's car upon meeting him, damnit.

Shiro's never there.

Lance brings this up in one of their calls.

“Why doesn’t Shiro ever call you? Does he not know that we’re calling you?” Lance understands immediately that he’s struck a nerve. It’s spelled out in the way that Keith’s expression shutters off. His blue-gray eyes grow dull.

“I don’t know,” Keith admits curtly. His arms cross. Lance pauses before speaking again.

"I think something’s wrong," he says hesitantly. Keith snaps to attention.

"What do you mean?" He asks, tentative.

So it goes.

Lance explains all the strange moments he’s had with Shiro, the ones where he’s seemed distinctly unlike himself. Keith listens intently, always willing to hear Lance out. Lance appears overwhelmingly grateful for that fact.

The call is forcibly ended when Keith is coerced into going on another mission by a Blade member who shows up at his door without a care for his privacy. The illusion of home, of safety, of sameness, is shattered. Keith’s mask shimmers back into place. He nods at Lance before disappearing, barely glimpsing the disappointment and upset that crosses his face.

“Stay safe,” he says lamely, looking pained, but it’s enough. It sticks in Keith’s mind. He remains cautious. He comes back alive. So does the rest of his team.

He calls Lance late at night as he silently falls apart, shaking violently. Lance looks utterly destroyed for a moment before he gathers himself and speaks. “Don’t even try to deal with this on your own anymore, okay? Idiot. Um, there’s this trick that I know helps...”

Keith fall asleep feeling content.

Shiro calls the next day, sneering derisively.

"Are you taking his side against me?" He asks, lips curled into a snarl. It’s the first thing he’s said to Keith in months. His eyes are flinty and cold.

Keith refuses to back down, in spite of his roiling stomach and the bile creeping up his throat, the voices in his head that scream _this is wrong, Shiro has always been there for you, why are you hurting him like this—_

"You can’t be Shiro," Keith says, but it's shaky. He feels pure, undiluted fear. There’s a hole in his stomach, hands wrapped around his throat. He can’t breathe.

“And why not?” He snaps, eyes flashing, violent.

“You— you never call—” Keith stammers, but he’s quickly cut off.

“Pathetic.”

Keith’s resolve ebbs away with each word thrown, back and forth, back and forth. He’s crumbling.

He sobs weakly as he ends the call.

**Author's Note:**

> three noun prompt: anger, hole, knife  
> dialogue prompt: “are you taking his side against me?”


End file.
